


Goes Down Smooth

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [37]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Community: kink_bingo, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Silk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil takes advantage of Clint having dressed up for his birthday dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goes Down Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Silk, Velvet, Feathers, Furs

They were in a cab, on their way home from a restaurant. Clint had taken Phil out to celebrate his birthday and Phil had had, well, a little bit more to drink than perhaps he should have. He wasn't falling-down drunk, or slurring his words, or in any danger of passing out. No, he was just happy and smiley and affectionate.

Not that Phil wasn't usually affectionate. He loved to cuddle, and Phil and Clint spent a lot of their (admittedly meager) downtime together snuggled up on the living room sofa with Phil stroking whatever part of Clint's body he could reach. But Phil was always much more restrained in public. And normally, the back of a New York City taxi cab would count as public. 

But tonight, after an excellent meal and a little too much good wine (not to mention the birthday Champagne, before-dinner cocktails and Irish coffee) Phil's usual inhibitions were distinctly absent. Clint got the idea that the only thing stopping Phil from sitting in his lap was the seat-belt law. As it was, Phil was leaning into Clint's shoulder, rubbing his face against it like a cat and making little satisfied humming sounds.

Clint leaned back in his seat and smiled. He'd wanted to give Phil a really nice night out for his birthday, and he'd succeeded, in spades. He just hoped Phil didn't feel too embarrassed about it tomorrow morning.

The cab pulled up outside their apartment, and Clint dropped a quick kiss on the top of Phil's head.

"We're home."

Phil straightened up slowly, and by the time he'd unfastened his seatbelt and climbed carefully out of the cab, Clint had paid and tipped the driver.

Phil stretched his back, and Clint watched carefully for any signs that he was about to topple over.

"I'm fine, Clint," Phil said, knowing, as usual, that Clint was watching him. "Just a little tipsy."

"OK, good. C'mon." Clint took Phil's hand and led him up to their apartment. Clint was still getting used to thinking of it as 'their' place, and he still grinned every time he saw the new label that Phil had stuck on the mail-slot, the day he'd moved in, that read "C. Barton/P. Coulson".

Clint let them into the apartment and headed over to turn off the alarm. Phil leaned against the wall of the hallway and carefully took off his shoes.

"Hey, c'mere a sec."

Clint hurried over, concerned that Phil had suddenly started to feel sick or something, only to be grabbed by the arms and pulled in for a deep, wet, slightly sloppy kiss.

"Been wanting to do that all night," said Phil with a grin. "Know what else I've been wanting to do all night?"

Phil ran his hands down the front of the deep purple silk shirt Clint was wearing. Nat had convinced him to buy it and wear it tonight, and, as usual when it came to, well, most things, she had been right. Phil had loved it. He'd taken every opportunity to stroke Clint's arm through the silky fabric while they were in the restaurant, and rubbed up against Clint's shoulder when they were in the cab, and now he was letting his hands roam everywhere that the soft shimmery fabric clung to Clint's body.

The silk was so thin and light that Clint could easily feel the heat of Phil's hands through it, roaming over his back and arms and chest. Phil pressed in for another kiss and let his fingers trail across Clint's nipples, rubbing them through the fabric. Clint gasped.

"Does that feel good? I want it to. I want to make you feel good, Clint."

"I... Phil. Are you... are you sure..." 

Phil stilled his hands and looked into Clint's eyes.

"I'm a little bit drunk, but I'm not incapacitated. I'm fine, trust me. I want this. I want you."

Clint smiled, relieved. "I want you too, Phil. I love you."

"Love you too," Phil whispered as he claimed Clint's mouth, and his hands went back to stroking Clint's broad chest, first outlining the contours of Clint's muscles with his fingertips, and then finding his nipples again.

This time, Clint let himself enjoy the sensation of the silk fabric rubbing deliciously over his skin. He moaned into Phil's mouth and felt Phil smile.

"Bet I can do even better than that," Phil said, taking his mouth off Clint's and dipping his head. First, Clint felt the heat of Phil's tongue lapping at his nipple through the thin fabric, and then, as the wetness soaked through... Clint's head hit the wall with a thump as he gave himself over to what he was feeling. Phil's mouth travelled across his chest to the other nipple, fingers kneading and now pinching very lightly as the wet fabric cooled and added yet another element to the mix of sensations. 

"God. Phil." Phil had palmed Clint's hard dick through his trousers, rubbing lightly before starting to undo his belt and pants. One-handed, Phil fumbled a little, and Clint brought his hands up to help. Once his pants and underwear were out of the way, Clint tried to reach for Phil's shirt buttons.

"Not yet. Something I want to do first. Something else I've been thinking about all evening." Knowing that Phil had been sitting across from him in the restaurant, thinking dirty thoughts, made Clint's already hard cock twitch under Phil's hand.

"You like that," said Phil with a small, satisfied nod. "You like knowing that I was thinking about this while we were eating. That I was thinking about undressing you. Touching you. Let me show you. Let me show you exactly what I was thinking about doing to you."

Phil pushed Clint's pants and underwear down so that they pooled around his ankles, then Phil sucked at each of Clint's nipples in turn, still though the silk shirt, rubbing the soft wet fabric across the sensitized skin. Then Phil lowered himself to his knees.

He adjusted the long tails of the shirt so that they fell on either side of Clint’s hard cock, framing it in purple silk. Phil rubbed his face against Clint's fabric-covered groin, pausing every now and then to drop light kisses on the soft warm skin of his cock.

Clint moaned and leaned back against the wall. The sight of Phil, fully dressed in one of his best suits, on his knees between Clint's legs, eyes closed, rubbing his face cat-like into Clint's groin, nearly made Clint come on the spot. Phil's tongue snaked out and started to lick stripes along Clint's dick, from base to tip as if it was a melting ice-cream cone, and Phil was trying to prevent drips. And speaking of drips... Clint was so turned on that he had started to leak. When Phil found the salty drops with his tongue he lapped them up with contented noises and an appreciative little smile on his face.

Eyes still closed, Phil licked around the head of Clint's cock before opening his mouth wide to take it in. As he did, he raised his hands up to Clint's chest, again finding his nipples and rubbing them through the still-damp fabric of the silk shirt.

"Phil. That's so good. I'm not going to last long, what you're doing to me..." Clint gasped out the words as he held his hips still, stopping himself from thrusting into Phil's warm, wet mouth. Phil went to work with lips and tongue, licking and sucking with abandon. Clint always loved it when Phil went down on him, because Phil gave great head, but he was usually a little quieter, a little more restrained. Tonight, Phil was sucking on Clint's cock like it was a big stick of peppermint candy that he couldn't get enough of; taking as much as he could into his mouth with a hard suck, then releasing the pressure, only to swirl and lap with his tongue. And the noises he was making: moans and murmurs and sighs, as if Clint's cock was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

The closer Clint got the wetter and messier and sloppier Phil got, until the sight and sounds alone would have been enough to make Clint come, even without Phil's mouth on his dick.

"Phil, I'm gonna come."

Phil smiled around Clint's dick, and then took it as deeply as he could, working his tongue and throat muscles and sucking hard. Clint fisted his hands against his thighs and shouted as he came. Phil sucked and swallowed and sucked some more, taking everything and then licking Clint clean as he gasped and sighed, leaning on the wall for support.

"Phil... that was... that was..." Clint dragged in more air and tried again, "It's your birthday, Phil. I was supposed to be showing you a good time, not the other way around." But he couldn't help grinning as he said it, and reached down to help Phil to his feet, because Phil looked both thoroughly debauched, and like he had just had the time of his life.

"The night is still young," said Phil, licking his wet, swollen lips.

"You're gonna kill me. Go get undressed. I'll lock up." Phil grinned at him and headed for the bedroom.

Clint crouched down and took off his shoes so that he could step out of his pants and underwear. He left them in the hall and checked the locks on the front door, then set the alarm. Then he changed his mind and went back to the hall and picked up his clothes. He stopped in the bathroom and dropped them in the hamper, keeping the shirt on in case Phil had more ideas for it. 

Clint walked into the bedroom, stopped, and smiled. Phil was, not entirely surprisingly, passed out and snoring on the bed. He'd taken off his suit jacket, tie, shirt, and belt, and hung them all carefully over a chair. Then he'd sat down on the bed to take off his shoes and socks. He'd managed both, his socks were stuffed into his shoes and his shoes were neatly tucked under the bed, as always, but at that point Phil had (as far as Clint could tell), simply flopped backwards on the bed and started snoring.

Clint lifted his legs up and swiveled him around until he was lying mostly straight on his side of the bed. Clint considered leaving his pants on, but knew Phil would sleep more comfortably without them, so Clint eased them off. Phil seemed to wake up partway through, but Clint kissed him on the forehead and told him to go back to sleep. Clint threw a blanket over him and then headed back for the kitchen. He got a bottle of Gatorade out of the fridge, and then two aspirins out of the medicine cabinet. He left both on Phil's bedside table.

Clint took his shirt off, hung it on the doorknob, and climbed into bed. He draped one arm around Phil's shoulders, and kissed the back of his neck.

"Goodnight, love. Happy Birthday."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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